


A Galaxy of Colors

by phanteezers



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Angst, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, Dan - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Fluffy, Happy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Universe, Phil - Freeform, Prompt Fic, Sad, Starbucks, YouTubers - Freeform, angsty, phanteezers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanteezers/pseuds/phanteezers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this world, hair color can determine your emotion.  You're shy?  People are going to know as your hair turns yellow.  All people with mental illnesses do not have to worry about being categorized as fake or attention-seeking when it's as obvious as, well, they're looks.  With people feeling better with needed therapy and limited sadness around, things are pretty great.  But, when criminals began to realize that they can't rob without their emotions showing that they were scared or about to do something and police came quicker to crime scenes when people see a scared group or a girl with a strange guy with scared emotions showing, crime dies down. Things became even BETTER, but the criminals didn't just disappear.  They all banded together to get a group of four criminals who had never been caught before but were highly known by streetnames- Mex, Seth, Maru, and Indra.  Mex was the known leader who would do only simple tasks to avoid being caught. but it scared the people nonetheless since crime had almost been extinct for five years.  Now with crime still mainly eliminated, Mex's gang attacks every week at  different locations in London. They've been dormant, though, for a full month.  No one knows where they have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Galaxy of Colors

 

  **Very important that you read the summary first.  Thank you, and enjoy.**

 

 

 

 

**Color Chart for Hair:**

_black-_  depressed  
 _light blue-_  scared  
 _pink-_  embarrassed/crushing  
 _red-_  angry  
 _yellow-_  shy  
 _orange-_  confused  
 _green-_ sick, nauseous   
 _grey-_  tired  
 _Blue-_  happy  
 _Dark blue-_  irritated  
 _brown-_  numb 

 

 

**Dan's P.O.V**

 

I walked out of the apartment with a lazy stride, going straight out to the sidewalk.  I was dressed in black skinny jeans and a loose buttoned-up black shirt with the collar popped up since I hadn't had the time to pull it back down and check it.  I mean, I had the time:  I was just too lazy to do anything about it.

The sun was set in the smoky curve of the Earth away from the direction I was heading, slowly raising itself up higher into the sky.  My steps were sluggish against the ground, but my converse were fairly new to where the tug on them pulled me along fine.  

I wasn't really sure why I was up so early.  I wanted some coffee, but I didn't think I wanted it bad enough to get up until, well, I was dressed and where I was now, out of the apartment and onto the sidewalk.  My hair turned a shade darker into almost jet black at just the thought of getting up this morning.  I pushed through it though, concentrating hard enough on the taste of a future cappuccino to cause my hair to shade back to a brown.  I was focusing enough on the roads to take the appropriate turns, and in under thirty minutes, I had made it to Starbucks.  

I walked in with more energy, letting the brown almost immediately disappear as I breathed in the scent of brewing coffee and comfort.   Most of everyone's hair here was a stereotypical happy blue, directly between light and dark.  This was expected however, because this particular Starbucks was run by my good friend Chris.  He had been working here for around five years, and he moved his way up by always working hard.  He made sure the place smelled of home no matter where you came from, and he came around occasionally to see if everyone was enjoying themselves.  I went ahead and took a seat to wait for the growing line to go down just a bit before I was to get up.  I flicked my hair out of the way a bit while looking over to the special of the day menu that restarted every day at eight which was ten minutes ago, as the clock said.

As I looked to the clock, though, I saw a face that didn't make me stop, but had definitely made me notice them.  I looked back down quickly at my table.  I moved my hands underneath it to my lap as I twiddled my thumbs and watched with peripheral vision the tips of my hair being entangled with pink strips.  Cursing under my breathe, I fixed my fringe, flicking it over to the side to prove a point of nonchalantness to the stranger that had to have seen me look at him.  I had seen his blue eyes flicker over at me the second that I looked at him accidentally from the clock and also the second I looked down.  He had to have seen me, I knew he had to have.

But, when I looked back up, he wasn't looking.  Instead, he was in a conversation with a guy who was sitting beside him.  The stranger that I had looked at was looking as if he was being told how he had been crowned king of England, but the guy he was looking at sat as if bored and not caring about the sounds he was saying that were being transcribed into melodies based off of the stranger's face.  When the guy looked back at the stranger I had previously looked at ,though, his unanimated face lit up into a smile that the other mimicked, and I could tell they were close, no matter family wise or relationship wise.

 I always loved trying to figure others out like that, just watching and seeing what happened and predicting off of it.  I didn't, however, like to make full predictions.  I didn't see all of their life; just a tiny little snippet.  I always tried to make sure to remember that.

In all of my jumbled thoughts and specific people watching, I hadn't realized that I had dozed out enough that I was still staring at the guy with the blue eyes who first looked at me.  I could actually see the exactly tint of his eyes' color from how long our eyes stayed locked.  They were mixed with an aquamarine and turquoise, even more intricate than his changing hair color that was like mixed blue and pink cotton candy.  The colors swirled until you could only see hints of the blue. He was embarrassed, or crushing.

 I was getting more and more nervous until I finally broke my stare, focusing on the empty table in front of me.  

This was before the distinct bell of the opening to the front door rang and I looked up to see four lean men walk in, beanies over their heads and wearing all black like me.  Actually, they looked quite nice clothing-wise.

But I knew what the beanies meant; I had seem them on tele even.  I knew that when they walked up to the cash register and the front one pulled out a gun, that I was not going to leave this building.  Above all, I knew that when the fourth man raised his gun to the ceiling and yelled to put our hands on the table and put our heads down, that I had picked the worse morning to fight my depression and get up.

It was Mex's crew.  They had came back from their leave. 

Silent droplets of water made their way down my face.  I wasn't sure what was sweat and what was tears, but I did know that I was crying and sweating at the same time.  A girl shrieked.  A man gasped as loud music slowly quieted from what I assumed to be his phone.  The lead guy who pulled his gun first was shouting at the front cashier to give the money, to hurry up.  She was crying, it was obvious, but no words were exchanged past the man's yelling.  Tears fell onto the table.  The Starbucks smell did not calm me down anymore:  it was purely nauseating. 

A gunshot began to ring out into the air.  The initial sound was just like the speed of a belt being whipped into the air, but an echo came into effect.  I heard the screams of the ones who got to witness whatever happened, but I kept my head on the table.  More tears slid down my face.  Was this my fate?  My head on a Starbucks table at eight in the morning with strangers and a boy who looked at me once?  Was this all that I could amount to despite my tries to stay alive?

My pity party was drowning out the louder the main guy spoke.  He was screaming at one of his own people, because they were shouting incoherently about how they didn't mean it, they could do better.  He then was screaming at everyone to keep their heads down.  Nothing but screaming was heard until, finally, one other sound rang out triumphantly over the man's gruff voice:  police sirens.

Oh God, please let them get in in time, I silently prayed to myself.  I was speaking to myself as well, oddly enough.  I was praying literally to myself.  Even in death, I still wouldn't look to God.  Good to know I was stubborn until death and sarcastic.  I almost smiled to myself before a tear hit my lips, interrupting my bittersweet thought. 

The door's ringing bell pierced through both the police sirens and the screaming which died out after the bell went off.  Footsteps pounded against the tile of the ground before the entire store was quiet despite a few whimpers and sobs.  I was afraid to even look up.

The door's bell rang out again as police yelled and asked if anyone was still holding us captain.  Someone said no quietly, but the cop took it as no reason to lower his voice.

"Everyone, the culprits are.. well, they're gone, but police cars are right now chasing them.  We had a report of a gunshot; is anyone hurt? And lift your heads up!"  The cop yelled.  I raised my head slowly to meet the scared eyes of about fifteen people who were all shaking violently.  Everyone's hair color was a light blue that almost had a faint glow to it.  I looked to my own to see the same but with green tips.

 It seemed as if one person was passed out as there head was on the table still.  No one said a word to the cop until one voice in particular stood out:  it was coming from the opposite side from me of the store.  It was from the stranger with the blue eyes.

"Peej?  Peej, c-come on, they're gone now, lift your head!"  the man urged, shaking his companion and jerking him side to side until he let go as we all watched the lifeless body sway into the booth and fall to the floor with a dull thud.  It sounded like a bag of potatoes hitting the floor.

The stranger's gasp was loud,  loud enough to echo.  Everything felt so surreal that the ringing in my ears from adrenaline helped to think to myself in almost a calm type of manner.  There was a dead man less than twenty feet away.  Dead, gone, no more life to live.  No more people to see, music to hear, laughter to sing out.  There would be no more symphonies he could say to get the stranger's attention how it did less than twenty minutes ago. 

He was gone.

 The stranger stood up, his table being moved out of the way by his lower body pressing against it before he stood in front of his friend.  It looked as if he turned off a switch in his posture to where he crumpled down to his friend's body.  I couldn't even look at the sight anymore; I had to look away while having the misfortune of being stuck to listening to the stranger's deafening sobs.  They were lower than the screaming of Mex, the ringing of the door, the police officer's shouting, everything.  It had a sound to it though, and emotion that you could feel just by the sound, that made it louder than anything I had heard.  

"W-Why is there no blood..?" A girl with fully green hair asked.  One arm was around her waist as she sat in her chair, her leg jiggling as she tapped it on the tile soundlessly.

"Sir, please step away from him, we need to put him on the gurney and wheel 'em out... You can ride with us, if you want..?" the police officer said, his tone wavering slightly as he edged closer to the stranger.  He ignored the girl for a moment before adding in almost a whisper, "That's just in movies; his jacket absorbed most of it."  

The stranger then got up from his knees, sniffled a bit, and promptly punched the policeman square in the face.

There were no gasps, no shock in anyone's face that wasn't already there.  The stranger stood there with anger boiling on his face, his hair rapidly shading the lower have redder and redder until his highlight blended in to his shirt.  His fist sat in the air as if someone was tugging at it.  It twitched and tightened before his hair slowly began to lose its flare, shading back to it's aquamarine color.  I didn't know what to do; everyone was sitting here, waiting for something to happen while this policeman sat here, dumbfounded and rubbing his chin, obviously having no idea what to do.  I would have to find out his name so I could report how unexplained things were to him on what to do in case Mex attacked.   Given it wasn't often at all, even now, people should be prepared, not rubbing their chin and muttering under their breath. 

I scooted my chair backwards a bit, directing attention to me.  My face blushed up, I knew, but I stood up nonetheless.  I didn't want this stranger to be alone through losing this person.  The ringing in my ears quieted a bit to where I could hear better.  I was thankful for it backing off, at least enough for me to hear my voice as I desperately tried to come up with ways to calm the stranger down.  

"Everyone, please go outside.  There are other police officers waiting, you can hear their sirens.  Go out to their cars and tell them what you heard, what time it was whoever looked closest to Mex's crew coming, and take deep breaths.  They're gone now."  I managed to keep my voice level enough to where they could understand me, but it shook slightly throughout my words.  Nonetheless, they didn't need to be told twice.  Everyone got up, clutching their sides by putting their arms around themselves.  Cries could still be heard in the mini crowd.  I subconsciously wiped off my face; I didn't need to look like a mess when I was trying to help someone who was, in fact, a literal mess.  

I got closer to the stranger, him only about four feet away.  I got just enough closer to where I was in between him and the police officer who seemed to get the memo that I was more qualified for this, policeman or not.  I knew how to talk to people, anyways.  At least, when it came to losing people. 

"Hey, look..."  I began, trying to rake my brain for thoughts.  Before I could speak, though, two more police officers came in, the little bell of the Starbucks ringing as they did.  They both grabbed the body from both ends and headed out, "Peej" 's face contorted into one of discomfort.  His face would never be relaxed again; he was stuck in forever discomfort.  I had hoped the stranger hadn't seen.  I studied his face to see he was hiding behind his hands.  He collapsed back into the booth behind him, pulling his knees up tight to his chest so he could rest his forearm on his knees and his head in his hands.  Muffled sobs let the quiet disperse for awhile.  The original police officer coughed. 

"I uh.  I think we ought to be going here..  You guys stay here as long as you would like.  We'll turn the open sign to close, obviously, and uh..  Come by the office if you have anything you heard specifically, I guess... Jeez."  He spoke with a slight shake to his voice, unsure of his own thoughts, I could tell.  Why would someone who was too nervous to handle one death become a police officer? As I finished that thought, the door shut.  The stranger and I were alone.  

"Listen..." I sat down beside him, pulling my knees up myself but keeping a close distance and looking at where his face was in his hands to see if he would look up at any time.  His hair was fading into a black quicker than I could catch the shades.  In less than ten seconds, his hair was jet black. 

I sighed quietly.  All I needed to do was clear my mind.  What would I want to hear in this situation?  What DID I want to hear when it happened to me?? 

"Okay." I exhaled.  "Alright.  A shitty thing just happened, didn't it?  It did.  You don't... You don't have to answer, basically.  You're probably tuning me out, but you need someone to sit with you and make sure you don't go on a hunt to find those horrible guys.  Trust me, you don't want to do that.  If you don't want to do that, then you are right now contemplating suicide:  death, killing yourself, the likes.  Don't.  Lives have a horrible habit of taking strange turns, and sometimes the strange turns get turned into dead ends.  That's all that happened to your friend Peej.. He hit a dead end.  But you know what happens when you hit dead ends?  You go back.  You turn around, and you retrace your steps.  He's probably getting to watch his favorite moments of life right now, and I can defnitely see him watching you watch him talk and seeing your face light up as it did before everything happened, and he'll want you to be as happy as that, alright?  You have to think of anything but what just happened right now.  We just need to get you to your flat, alright?   You don't need to stay in here."  

I took a deep breath and let it out quietly to where I could hear the stranger's response.  All he did was a simple gesture, a simple thing that could've meant a hundred things.

He nodded.

He got up, began to walk with his arms around his waist, and left, holding the door open until I jumped a bit and hurried to go through before he closed it.

He started walking faster and faster until I finally almost had to start jogging to keep up.  When I finally did catch up enough, he started slowly down just enough to where we were comfortable speed walking.

"Is this okay if I come with you to your flat to help you? I promise you I will be of no bother, and, I'll get out of your way.  I just, I just really, really rather you not be alone right now.  And I mean, you could just have a girlfriend at your flat or something, or you could have a boyfriend, whichever, or you could live with your parents which is completely fine, I just didn't want you to be alone, which would utterly suck, not that you living alone wo-"

He cut off my rambling with another nod.  I had been watching him carefully as we walked, causing me to almost stumble into a street sign.  I turned to my side a bit to avoid it before going back to normal walking.  "Alright.  Sorry about ra- yeah.  Okay, so I'll just follow you to your flat and I'll stay out of your way until you want to talk.  Uhm, do you usually do anything when something is wrong?  Sing?  Dance? Anything?  You can do anything in front of me, trust me, I've seen some crazy things."  I tried to give a weak smile encouragingly which fell as soon as he started walking faster.  I matched his pace for a few minutes before he started going faster, faster, and yet faster until he was running and I was frantically flailing to keep up.  I was horrifically out of shape, but I wasn't going to lose this guy, not just because of my in-activeness.  I had enough adrenaline from the robbery to push through.  
  
What if he didn't want me to follow him, though?  My mind asked.  I slowed down a bit, questioning myself as I broke into a jog.  That was, until the stranger motioned over his back with his hand to keep going, keep following.  He was inviting me to chase him, follow him, and to help him.  He wasn't completely so far gone- at this point- that he didn't want anyone's company.  I knew now that if I was going to help this guy and get to know him, I would have to chase him. 

Which is exactly what I did as I started to run faster.


End file.
